


Conversations We'll Never See: Twelve and Ian Chesterton

by attack_giraffe



Series: Conversations We'll Never See [3]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Pre-Episode: s08e06 The Caretaker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 03:37:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5728216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/attack_giraffe/pseuds/attack_giraffe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian Chesterton interviews a candidate for Coal Hill School caretaker</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conversations We'll Never See: Twelve and Ian Chesterton

Ian Chesterton, President of the Coal Hill School board of governors, examined the man in his office with carefully concealed amusement. In some ways, this was a moment for which he’d been waiting a long time. In other ways, he was just as glad that they had the structure of a job interview to break the ice.

“...and that’s why I think I’d be an excellent caretaker for your school,” the man was saying. John Smith, or so he said. The case he’d just finished making wasn’t a very good one, truth be told. It was clear that Mr. Smith was used to being able to talk his way into, and out of, nearly anything, and was expecting this to be no different.

Still, Ian put on a thoughtful look, as if considering the case on its merits. Finally, he said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Smith, but I really don’t think you’re qualified for the job.”

Some startling things happened to “Smith”’s face at this point. His eyebrows took on a life of their own, while his eyes flashed from surprise to something like scorn. Finally, he expostulated in his strong Scots accent, “Oh, for heaven’s...how qualified do you have to be? A bit of sweeping up here, a bit of paint there, maybe cut the grass. It’s not exactly science class, now, is it?!”

Chesterton continued to contain his amusement, but only by the hardest. He’d wondered if this “Smith” had recognized him. For reasons neither he nor Barbara had ever understood, neither one of them had aged much at all in the nearly fifty years since they’d returned from their unexpected adventures in space and time. It would be altogether possible that “Smith” would think he was his own son, or grandson, if he recognized him at all. But the “science class” line said that the man knew exactly who Chesterton was, even while his attitude made it clear he didn’t realize the reverse was true, despite the man’s very different appearance.

Finally, Chesterton adopted a stern expression, “I’m sorry, Mr. Smith, but you’re going to have to give me a better reason to take a chance on you. You can’t be too careful where children are involved, after all.”

“Smith” grumbled and muttered to himself a little before answering, dejectedly, “You’d never believe me.”

Chesterton was actually a bit put out by this. Granted, he’d been quite the skeptic back in 1963, but if “Smith” really did recognize him, he ought to know better. “Why don’t you give it a try anyway. You might be pleasantly surprised.”

Taking a deep, resigned breath, “Smith” responded, “All right, fine. There’s an alien killer robot that’s set down somewhere in Shoreditch, closer to the school than I’d like. If it’s not dealt with, someone will eventually try to attack it and it will probably retaliate by burning down the planet. I need to lure it somewhere where I can deal with it, and I’m the only one who can.”

Chesterton smiled a reassuring smile, and in a tone that suggested he was just humoring his interviewee, said, “There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Smith” blinked a moment, then said in an astonished and somewhat relieved voice, “You mean you believe me?!”

“Well, as lies go, it would be pretty terrible, you have to admit.”

The other man laughed a bit nervously, not sure he could believe his luck, then, “Seriously, though. Why do you believe me?”

For the first time in the entire interview, Chesterton allowed his genuine emotions to show on his face, with a broad smile, but replied with a seeming non-sequitur. “Do you know what’s interesting about the modern world, particularly in schools?”

The would-be caretaker took the diversion in stride, “I can think of several things. Which did you have in mind?”

“Surveillance.”

“Surveillance?”

“Yes. Cameras everywhere. Even in areas you wouldn’t expect. Like near broom cupboards.”

“Ah…”, the man said somewhat nervously. “Interesting…”

“Also, the halls in this place really echo, especially when the students aren’t around. Some days, when I’m working late, it seems like I can hear mice scampering about from the other side of the building. So, really loud, odd, disturbing noises, like, say, the sound of a space-time ship with a broken camouflage mechanism, materializing in one of those broom cupboards, are pretty distinctive.”

At this point, the other man got a particular look on his face, that seemed to be the universal, instinctive reaction of all humanoid species when they’ve been had. Finally, the Doctor said, “You’ve known who I was this whole time, haven’t you, Chesterfield.”

“All this time and you  **still** can’t get my name right!” he replied with a broad smile that showed he wasn’t in the least bit insulted by it, any more. “I have no idea how you look so different that the Doctor I knew, but the TARDIS really is hard to miss.”

“Well, then, we’re even, because I have no idea how you look so much the same. I mean, shouldn’t you be old or something?”

At this, Chesterton actually looked a bit disappointed. “That’s a shame. One of the things I’d been hoping to ask you if we ever crossed paths again is if you knew why. All I can tell you is it’s true. Barbara and I do seem to be aging a little bit faster these last few years, but until recently? Not at all.”

Recovering his composure, the Doctor shook his head. “Sorry, my boy,” he responded, lapsing without thinking into another way he’d used to address Chesterton, so long ago. “I really have no idea. Maybe it was a side effect of using a Dalek time machine to get you home; maybe it was something else we were all exposed to in our travels. I suppose there are worse things that could have happened.

“As for me...well, I guess you weren’t around long enough to see it happen that first time. Short story is, it’s a trick my people have to live longer. We get too old or too sick or injured and we regenerate. It shakes up the whole genetic structure and when it’s done, we’re practically a different person. This time I got the eyebrows and the accent. Last time I was a scarecrow with an amazing chin. There’s no telling, most of the time.”

“Will that happen to Susan, as well?” Chesterton asked.

The Doctor’s face grew grim, and he looked away uncomfortably. “It...would have.”

It was Chesterton’s turn to be taken aback. “What happened?”

Still uncomfortable, the Doctor said simply, “War. Long ago, now.”

“I’m sorry. I had no idea…”

The Doctor laughed, breaking the tension. “Of course not. How could you. It’s not like I’m exactly the best correspondent you’ve ever known.”

Even so, there was silence for a moment or two more. Finally, the Doctor cleared his throat. “So...do I get the job?”

“Why don’t we discuss it over dinner. Barbara would be very cross with me if I told her I’d seen you and not brought you around.”

“I’m not really an over-dinner person these days...but we can’t have Barbara cross, now, can we? I remember Barbara cross. That’s scarier than the giant killer robot.”

Chesterton grinned, “And it hasn’t noticeably mellowed much over the years, no.”

“All right. Dinner, then.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Prequel to “The Caretaker”; Ian’s relative agelessness is referred to by Sarah Jane Smith in SJA: “The Death of the Doctor, Part 2”. Ian’s status as president of the board of governors of Coal Hill School is established in “Day of the Doctor”.


End file.
